


In the Flesh

by misbegotten



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 5 Acts Meme, M/M, PWP, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 03:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint can't help trying to leave his mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



The wall behind Phil's office door is a very erotic place. Not because it's particularly toothsome (c'mon, it's a wall), and there's no sexy pinups (too bad, Phil's office could stand a sexy pinup or two); it's just a hard greenish-grey wall with a slight indentation where the doorknob has hit one too many times. And scrabbling marks where Clint has struggled to hang on while Phil fucks the hell out of him. That, Clint thinks, is very erotic. And a little bit of a challenge, because Clint can't help trying to reach higher and deeper as Phil strokes into him, can't help trying to leave his mark a little more on the bland wall behind Phil's office door.

"I sense that I don't have your full attention," Phil says evenly, his fingers pressing more firmly into Clint's hips as his own snap forward, pinning Clint more forcefully to the wall. Clint stops trying to look up and turns his head, letting his cheek rest against the wall. If walls can retain memories, this one is chock full of brisk efficiency (Phil) and the repressed desire of too many hours waiting around for Phil (Clint). This is Clint's reward for patience, though. The hot press of Phil's lips on the back of his neck, the teeth leaving marks no one else will see at the ridge of his shoulders. The span of Phil's hands on his ribcage, lower on his hips, sometimes at the top of his ass. The spit-slick touch of Phil's fingers inside him, opening him up and hitting that spot that makes him bite on the corner of his lip to keep from moaning aloud and scaring the interns roaming the halls just on the other side of the wall.

That thought pings his dick just right, and he says brokenly, "Please," to Phil and Phil huffs a laugh into his ear, and says gently, "Okay." With permission finally given Clint unclenches his fingers from where they're splayed into the wall and takes his cock into his hands. The first swipe is rough and uncomfortable, but he's already leaking pre-come and it doesn't take long to find the right rhythm, the echo of Phil's inside him, and then they're moving together. Phil picks up his pace to drive Clint just that little bit more crazy, just what he needs to lose it and he's saying Phil's name under his breath as he comes, splattering on his hand and stomach and yeah, a little bit on the wall. He pulls Phil with him, quivering behind him and his fingers so tight against Clint's hips that it hurts. He waits until he feels Phil's spent cock softening and then Phil is tucking himself back into his suit pants and helping Clint pull up his jeans over shaking legs.

Phil takes a handkerchief from one pocket while Clint pulls on his t-shirt and dabs at the mess Clint has made on the wall. "I really should get the office repainted," he remarks, dropping a kiss on Clint's lips.

Clint grabs Phil's wrist, locking him in place, and kisses him more deeply. "No," he says definitely. "You really shouldn't."

Phil gives him a look -- that "you're an idiot but I love you anyway" look with which Clint is oh so familiar -- and nods to himself. "You're right. It's perfect just the way it is."


End file.
